Fluff Monday: Monsters and Legends

SeerK Here.  Although its not Friday I thought I would post our next installment of the story of Alex Cross.  I have been pretty busy getting ready for our tournament The Second Annual Storm Zone Brawl: The Battle At Omicron Theta at UCON.  It is this coming Saturday the 15th.  our start time is 10 a.m. and there are still spots available.  We have patrol fleets, dreadnought boxes and battle stations up for grabs.  I hope to see you all there!  In the mean time Enjoy the story!

The doors to the hanger bay slowly parted. The force shield holding the environment in the bay flickered slightly as the air momentarily rushed towards the black inky vacuum of space. Alex stood at the center of his officers. They were lined up in two neat rows while an honor guard of the ships Marines stood at attention in parallel lines with their weapons at parade rest. Klaxons sounded as the shuttle entered the bay. The plain steel gray craft slowed as it entered the bay. Its slab sided bulk slowly lowered itself onto the landing pad closest to the arranged rows of officers and Marines.

After it had completed its landing. the Marines turned and quick stepped into two rows flanking the hatch. They stood to attention as the hatch opened. Even covert meetings and secret trips had pomp and traditions to be followed in the Rense System Navy. Alex stood, rather calmly with his hands behind his back, as the hatch opened the the ramp came down. Pioneer troopers came down first, followed by what looked to be a collection of administrators, Fleet Colonels, Fleet Captains and Fleet Marshals. They filed down and joined the other soldiers and Fleet officers in neat rows. Salutes and hand shakes were exchanged. Alex felt all their eyes on him. It was a bit unsettling. It seemed they knew why Fleet Marshal Gronier was here.

As Alex became lost in thought, he awoke form his reverie as one of the higher ranking officers shouted “Attention! Alpha On Deck!” The woman emerging from the blocky shuttle craft looked to be in her early 40's. She was tall with a mane of silver hair flowing down her shoulder. It was arranged in a complex of braids with a heavy looking silver tie at the end of the arrangement. It looked like the “Wings Of Liberty”, The Symbol of the Federation. She was actually quite lovely, with high cheek bones and a slight frame. The look in her eyes could have penetrated a Terran energy shield. They were locked firmly on Alex. It was her, Supreme Fleet Marshal Delphine Rense-Gronier. The “Silver Fox” they called her, well at least not in her presence. Alex knew she was a little over 62 years old, but thanks to Directorate Bio Sciences looked to be in her Early 40's. Her nickname was earned thanks to her silver hair, apparantly it had been that way from a very young age, and her hallmark hit and run tactics when prosecuting campaigns. Her forces were like ghosts and her tactics were reminiscent of the old Earth General Erwin Rommel.

The Fleet Marshal strode confidently down the ramp Saluting the Marines as she went past them. Alex Stepped forward and saluted.

“Welcome the the Leonidas sir! I am..” Marshal Gronier Interrupted as Alex spouted his greeting.

“Do I look like a sir Cross? I hate that protocol Cross. As we have never met that was your one warning”

“Yes ma'am” Her stare seemed to be boring a hole into Alex. He was off to a great start.

“At ease Fleet Marshal, you look like you are going to faint.”

The rumors of her candor did not prepare Alex for the actuality of it. Alex relaxed and lowered his hand from his salute.

“Apologies Fleet Marshal, I am just surprised you are here. Last word was your Task Fleet was in the Omicron Theta System, I take it things did not go well” Alex froze as he realized how frank his statement was.

A wry smile broke the sternness of her face. She seemed almost amused. She glanced back at one of the officers that had arrived with her with a raised eyebrow. He was a middle aged man with close cropped hair and a jagged scar down the right side of his face. He looked as if someone had slapped him. He shook his head in what seemed like an act of contrition.

She gestured for Alex to walk with her. As they walked side by side towards the briefing room the other officers and Marines filed in behind them.

“Marshal Fromer was right about you Cross”

“Right about what ma'am?”

“You are blunt and speak your mind, terrible quality in an officer”The Marshal smiled as she made the statement. Alex was a little taken aback, but she continued.

“Terrible in an Officer, but an excellent quality in a front line Task Fleet Commander and as an adviser.” “ Which is primarily why I am here Cross” Alex tried to contain his confusion.

They continued for a few minutes winding their way through the halls of the ship until they arrived at the briefing room. Fleet Marshal Gronier took the place at the head of the table and gestured fro everybody to sit. The Stewards served scotch and refreshments to the officers as the Fleet Marshal brought maps and fleet dispositions up on the holo projector at the center of the table.

“Lets get down to business, Omicron theta was a disaster and its because that bastard Gravanivitch was feeding us false intel. We have apprehended the spies among us and now our mission has changed.”

Alex was a bit shocked by the Fleet Marshals directness. There were audible groans and sighs at her pronouncements. She continued for several minutes detailing the regroup and reinforcement of the miscellaneous fleet groups still at large from the battle. From the displays and information it looked as if she was planning on hitting the system with about twice as many ships and was dedicating the RNV Dramos to the fight. The Rense Navies sole Leviathan class warship. This was more than an extended campaign to take a planet, this looked to be a plan of vengeance. Marshal Groniers legendary temper seemed to be getting the better of her. A thought occurred to Alex, this looked like a very well orchestrated diversion. The number of assets and the sheer amount of fire power was over kill.

“Ma'am, this looks reckless. Unless you are trying to draw forces off of Schaumberg Prime.....”

Alex trailed off as all eyes looked at him. Several of the men at the table were shaking their heads, a couple had mortified looks.

“Why would I try to do that Marshal Cross?”

Alex felt trapped, but the wry grin on the Fleet Marshals face showed her hand. With as much confidence as he could muster he answered.

“Ma'am, If it were me I would say I would be drawing forces off of Schaumberg prime to make sure my second smaller Battle Fleet had the element of surprise when it shunted in to take the system......And secure a foothold to hit the Fortress.” The pronouncement made Alex sit back in his seat. The eyes moved from him to the smiling Fleet Marshal Gronier.

“You are sharp Cross. I also cannot take full credit for the plan...”

“Panzer......” Alex laughed slightly. That cunning spider.

“As I recall Cross you have dealt with this Relth in the past?”

“Yes ma'am. His name is very hard to say quickly so I just called him Panzer. He might as well be a tank as big as he is. When I was A Fleet Colonel we participated in joint operations with his hive for over a year.”

Alex knew why she was here “So you want me to treat with the Relthoza fleet thats here.” It wasn’t a question Alex made it as a statement of fact.

“Yes Fleet Marshal I do, they should be here within the hour.”

“Actually Ma'am they are already here.”

“They communicated their arrival time Cross, it was to be in about an hour.”

“True, but Panzer always arrives early and being the consummate hunter that he is probably already has the fleet surrounded.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes ma'am. He follows the old ways and his queen does not suffer failure from her 1^st consort.”

As if on cue, the bridge signaled the conference room.

“Sir this is the bridge, a large hunter fleet just appeared on the scopes with full weapons lock.” The panic in the officers voice was obvious.

“Understood, do not return weapons lock. Roll the ships belly towards the battleship.”

“How did you know there was a battle ship sir?”

“Just roll the ship Lt.”

Alex grinned. That crafty spider was probably shadowing the Fleet Marshals ships the whole time.

“Presenting your belly Cross?”

“Yes ma'am, all the better to lure him in.” Alex grinned. Panzer was probably having a good laugh on his bridge. This was going to be interesting. Hopefully nobody would die when they went to meet with the Relth. The spider was a traditionalist after all.

Until next time Crush the Alliance and as Always...

REMEMBER DRAMOS!!!   

Fluff Friday Halloween Edition: The Ghosts Of Terra

SeerK here with a special Halloween Installment of "Fluff Friday".  This time I am doing something different.  A story from a Terran perspective.  Enjoy and Have a joyous Samhain and a Happy Halloween form all of us at The WayGate.

The air was still musty and stale. Despite the deep cleaning the air was still musty. It was a peculiar quirk of old vessels like this. Being in mothballs for so long stained the air. It would stay that way too. Even after a crew came on board and lived in the ship the air would still be musty. Gregory realized he was lost in thought again. It was easy for the mind to wander being alone in the dimly lit halls of a ship. He shook off his reverie and continued with his task. He had to get the communications console upgraded before the ship left dry dock. The ship had not seen action in over 170 years. It was a veteran of the first succession war. She was old and scarred. She had sent dozens of rebel ships to their deaths. Although there were many Razorthorn class Battleships still in service, none of them were as old as the Ixion.

The comm bud in his ear buzzed with static as a voice broke him once more from his thoughts.

“Have you got that panel in yet crewman Voight?”

It was Gregory's boss Chief Farnes. He had been riding Gregory all day. Apparently the Ixions new commanding officer was due to arrive at 0900 tomorrow morning. The Chief was hell bent on having the ship completely done for the inspection. Never mind they still had another week while they primed the reactors and brought the fold space drive online.

“No sir, but I am almost done. There is some feedback in the system that is causing some interference, I am still trying to track down.”

“Get it done ASAP crewman, we still have to get the port shield array re aligned. If you can't find the source in the next hour put it on the “gremlin” list and get down to the port array”

“Yes sir” Gregory sighed. The Gremlin list was getting big. This ship was very stubborn. It was like it was resisting their efforts to resurrect her for duty. Gregory pondered this for a few moments as he closed the access panel he had been working in and turned the communication console on. The channel was silent for a moment, then the static came back. It was different this time though. Gregory could swear he could hear something in the static.

“.......o surrend.............no..........tryann........renzi forever.......” It seemed to be repeating. Gregory switched channels and messed with the settings, but it seemed to be on every channel. He ducked under the console and opened another access panel.

“ I tried to reason with them......”

Gregory jumped and hit his head on the console. He cursed as he stood rubbing the back of his head.

“Dammit don't sneak up on people.....”Gregory froze as he saw Admirals bars on the mans uniform. He stood to attention and saluted. The Admiral was sitting in the commanders chair at the center of the bridge. He was cast in shadow and the dim light reflected off of the medals and pins on his uniform.

“ I tried to reason with him. I didn't want to do it.......”

“Sir are you ok?” Gregory relaxed and took a step towards the man in the chair. He seemed to be sobbing as he spoke.

“They didn't deserve it. They deserved to be brought to justice and brought to heel. I told the president it would not make them surrender. It would only harden their resolve”

“Sir I don't understand, are you ill? Do I need to summon a medic?” The man continued to ramble as Gregory got closer. He was about 3 paces away from the man and still could not make out his face. He seemed to be cradling his head in his hands. Sobbing as he spoke.

“The Dindrenzi people didn’t deserve that kind of sanction.”

“With all due respect sir the Dindrenzi are savages that only understand one thing, Violence.”

the man began to laugh. It was a cold and seemed to penetrate Gregory to his core. Gregory noticed his breath in the air. It was cold, really cold. Were the atmosphere processors in the fritz again?

The man began to raise his head and sit back in the chair.

“Thats what my first officer always said....”

Gregory saw the man clearly for the first time. He was pale, and he features were drawn. He wore the uniform of an NTSC Admiral, but it looked like the ones he had seen in a museum. His eyes were sunken and there seemed to be scorch marks on his left temple. Gregory realized it was a gunshot wound. The man reached for Gregory laughing. A sense of terror overtook Gregory and he turned to run. He tripped as he turned and fell. He hit his head hard on the deck. The last thing he saw before blacking out was the man standing over him.

Gregory woke suddenly and began to scramble across the bridge. Hands reached for him.

“Crap Crewman calm down” Gregory stopped and turned. He squinted and looked clearly at his assailant. It was the Chief.

“Sir? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be Voight?” The Chief looked genuinely confused.

“There is an intruder on board sir, he attacked me!”

“Voight there is nobody here except you and I, beta team left 2 hours ago.”

“You must have seen the guy he was wearing an admirals uniform Admiral, he was injured.....badly!”

“Crewman you aren't making an ounce of sense, Nobody is here except us. I found you by the console out cold”

Gregory looked over towards the console. A smattering of blood was on the deck plate. His head began to ache as reality seemed to come crashing down upon him.

“I saw him plain as day Chief, he was crying and sobbing about trying to prevent something. He looked like hell and it looked like he had been shot.”

The Chief rolled his eyes. “Not you too, I swear.......” he trailed off as he went for the first aide kit by the entrance to the bridge. Gregory tried to stand but felt dizzy as he did. The Chief motioned for him to stay down.

“What do you mean not me too?”

“Well some of the others have seen some weird stuff while we have been refitting the ship, I didn’t want to say anything to spook the rest of the teams that hadn’t seen anything. You were the last person I would expect to see anything. I just chocked it up to gamma team hitting the bottle on duty” The Chief walked back over to Gregory with a bottle of antiseptic and some gauze.

“I don’t understand sir? Are you saying some other people have seen this guy?”

“No Voight nobody has seen a crying Admiral, that ones new. I am guessing you whacked your head hard enough to get a concussion.” The Chief dressed Gregory's head wound. The antiseptic stung when he applied it to his head. “I am taking you to the infirmary once you feel confident enough to stand.”

After a few minutes Gregory stood with some help form the Chief. He was feeling dizzy still, but not quit as bad. They made their way down the corridors to the main port air lock. A thought occurred to Gregory as they silently made their way to their destination.

“Sir, this vessel is really old right? Did something bad happen on it?”

“Don't start Crewman, I know where this is going, no its not haunted and no nothing bad happened.”

“Oh...” Gregory was not one to believe in ghosts, but he had heard stories form some of the old yard workers. Old ships have seen a lot in their travels. Lots of good folks lived and died in their cold metal arms. They arrived at the airlock and made their way to the station. The umbilicus was always cold despite the heaters. The trip from the airlock to the infirmary was short. The Doc was in his office reading a book.

“Got an Injured man Doc” The Chief helped Gregory to the exam table. He sat down and thanked the Chief. The Chief conferred with the Doc before exiting.

“Hit your head did you, lets take a look” The Doc unwrapped Gregory's head and probed and prodded him a bit. He shined a light in his eyes and seemed to be doing some sort of test.

“Well looks like you have a minor Concussion, so I am going to need you off the next duty shift. I will let the Chief know. Loos like this cut on your head is also going to need closing.”

“Oh thats going to make the Chief happy, the Commander of that old girl is due here tomorrow”

“Well he will have to make due without you for one shift.”

“Doc can I ask you a question?, it may sound weird but bear with me.”

“Ok Crewman go ahead”. The doc began cleaning Gregory's wound and started to apply the dermal re-generator.

“Rumor has it you are a man that knows something about history, namely about ships.”

“Yes I am a history buff crewman and I would be a liar if I didn't call in a lot of favors to get this posting. There is a lot of history in this yard, The Storm Fleet has seen a lot of action.”

“Thats very true Doc, So this old girl out here, whats her story?”

“The Ixion? That vessel was once the flagship of one of Terra's greatest fleets. It fired the nuke that destroyed the capital city on Dramos.”

“That was Admiral Gravanivitch's Vessel? I thought his ship was the Dreadnought Fist of Terra?”

“Well it was once he was actually an Admiral. He was technically the first officer of the Ixion until he was field promoted by the President”

“He was field Promoted?” The Doctor Shook his head in acknowledgment. Another voice added to the conversation

“Well thats the nice way of saying he executed that coward Admiral Cross for disobeying the bombardment order and for being a rebel sympathizer.” The man in the door was imposing. He was tall and squarely built. His accent was thick. He sounded like he was from the Russian Federation region of Terra. His close cropped red hair and beard was illuminated by the bright flame of the lighter he was using to light a dark cigar.

The Doctor and Gregory were startled, but both managed a weak salute when they saw the rank pins on his uniform.

“Gentleman I am looking for the engineer in charge, I want to see my ship.”

“ I will signal the duty Chief sir, I didn't think you were arriving until tomorrow?”

“Sir may I ask a question?” Gregory felt very nervous, this man disturbed him. The way he looked at Gregory was almost Predatory.”

“How do I know these little facts?” The man responded with a wry grin.

“Yes Sir”

“My Great Grandfather told me about it when I was child, He liked to fill in gaps in story about Dramos.”

Gregory’s blood ran cold. This was Admiral Alexei Gravanivitch. The Commander of the “Rad Hounds” The Great Grandson of the man who destroyed Dramos.

“Its an honor to meet you sir!” The Admiral took a long draw on his Cigar

“Of course it is” He smirked and turned to exit, Gregory could hear the Chief stammering outside.

That is why the ship was being difficult. That is why people had been seeing things. The ghosts of the past were being driven out. Purged from its halls as it was awoken form its long slumber. The memories of the past were soon to be replaced by the reality of the present. The war against the Dindrenzi was at a tipping point. The ship was a killer. Its new master had finally arrived. The one man who would take her into the stars for her intended purpose.

to hunt the Dindrenzi once again..........

Fluff Friday: The Liberation Of Omicron Theta pt 1

SeerK here with another "Fluff Friday" We continue with the tale of Fleet Marshal Alexander Cross. In the wake of a hollow Victory Alex finds himself propelled into the spotlight, but not in the way he had anticipated.

“Sir I have multiple fold signatures with vessels inbound to our position”

“Are they Friend or Foe Mr. Carlson?”

“I.F.F. Signals verified sir....Its Task Fleet Corvus”

Alex slumped in his command chair. Task Fleet Corvus. That was Fleet Marshal Groniers' Task fleet. It was a bulk of the RSN ships in this sector of space. It was part of the 101^st Combined fleet. Judging by the signals lighting up his screens it was a big chunk of the combined fleet. A thought occurred to Alex. Why did she bring so many ships? Wasn't the 101^st currently engaged with the Liberation of Omicron Theta?

“Mr. Carlson are there any troop ships with the fleet?”

“Just a sec Sir.......negative no troop transports or bulk landers Sir.”

That didn't bode well. The 101^st was designated as a Planetfall Division as it contained Legions and ships from the Caros League of systems. Fleet Marshal Groniers' Task Fleet Corvus supplied the intelligence and major offensive punch to the already impressive fire power of the 75^th Caros Assault fleet.

“Sir incoming message from the Agamemnon”.

“Put it through Mr. Ross”

The Agamemnon was the Groniers flagship. It was one of the few Banshee class Dreadnoughts in the RSN fleet.

“Message is text only sir....it reads “briefing on your vessel in one hour”. Its gold level encoded”

A gold level encoded message just telling me to expect company? Something is not right. Alex pondered the information at hand. A feeling of dread suddenly filled him.

“Mr. Carlson do we have a visual of the Task Fleet vessels yet?” His voice was steady despite the fear that was very quickly overtaking him.

“Yes sir, leading vessels coming into visual range now”

“On my screens if you please Mr. Carlson....zoom in on the lead ship and enhance.”

The cruiser on Alexs' screen looked like it had been to hell and back. It looked like it was lucky to be still moving under its own power. How the hell did it make the fold jump to here? Why did they make the jump?

“Mr. Carlson signal the Agamemnon affirmative and tell sick bay to get ready to receive injured.”

“Aye sir!”

Alex sat in his command chair, silent, for a good two minutes. It was clear the Armada that had been sent to Omicron Theta had been hit hard and this was likely a retreating section of the fleet. Given Fleet Marshal Gronier was in over all command of the action, she would not be here to discipline a junior officer with a full scale planetary liberation in process. Alex chastised himself for thinking the Fleet Marshal was here just to dress him down. It was ego and pure vanity on his part.

“ I just have to get over myself.....” Alex trailed off in thought as he muttered out loud.

“What was that sir?”

Alex snapped out of his reverie, “ I will be in the briefing room awaiting our guests Mr. Carlson, you have the Bridge”

“Aye Sir.”

Alex stood and put on his uniform coat. He buttoned it up as he walked out of the bridge and down the hall. He arrived in the Briefing room a few minutes later. He sat down at the long table in the chair at the head of the table. He summoned the steward to bring refreshments to the room and added a bottle of 30 year old single malt scotch from his own private stock to the order.

The steward arrived a few minutes later as Alex was going over the com traffic from the new arrivals.

“Would you like a glass sir?”

Alex looked up and saw the steward had quickly set up the refreshments and was holding the bottle of scotch.

“Yes, make it a double if you would please.”

Alex nursed his drink while listening to the com traffic from the incoming fleet. He became lost in the damage reports, casualty reports and the off hand remarks of the comm officers relaying the traffic. It was very clear the battle to liberate Omicron Theta did not go as planned. In fact it sounded as if it had been a disaster. A coded message from an unknown source to the Agamemnon did catch Alex's attention though. The coding was utterly alien, but very familiar. It was from a Relthoza Barb Fleet. The message was simply a time. Two standard hours. The signature that followed the time brought a smile to Alex's face.

“Panzer you crafty old spider, looks like we will be hunting somebody together again” Alex muttered .

Shvar'ss'kovar'shen, or “Panzer” as Alex Nicknamed him. Relth names were very difficult for non-Relthoza to pronounce, so nicknames abounded. Panzers actually name meant “Implacable hunter with a will of Iron”, or something to that effect. Alex had nicknamed him “Panzer” after the Ancient Terran German legend of Der Panzer Mensch or “Tank Man”. It was a very apt comparison. In his powered exo Armor the Relthoza Warrior was almost literally a tank, both in size, firepower and resiliency.

Time passed quickly as Alex thought about his old hunting companion. A chime awoke him from his reverie. It was the bridge signaling the Fleet Marshals Shuttle was inbound. This was going to be interesting. The “Silver Fox” herself was going to be on board his ship. Honor and fear in equal measure gripped Alex's being. He stood and Straightened his uniform. Gave himself a re assuring smile and girded himself to meet a legend.

Fluff Friday: Corporate Recruiting

Fort Kinzer military installation - Dindrezi space

Operations-Director Vogin Winterborn sat at the head of a classic, wood oval-shaped boardroom table, looking at his subordinate officers as one of them completed his report.

"... and with the latest resupply convoy, we are topped off at 100% of our basic combat load of munitions and fuel.  Spares inventories are at 97%, and crew establishments are at 94% of authorized strength.  We should be ready to resume operations as soon as BATCRURON 102 finishes topping off their torpedo bays from the tender."

"Thank you for that report, George," Vogrin smiled in approval.  "Now, was there any final business before we get underway?"

"Just one minor report, Sir."  A junior officer about 2/3rds of the way down the table stood up.  "BioTech says they've finally got that interesting new gene cluster nailed down, the one adopted from the Soryllian warrior class lizards.  They send their thanks for the last batches of prisoners - the increased sample size let them engage in some destructive testing that sped things up considerably.  We've received several platoons of new cyborgs that incorporate the enhanced strength and reaction speed.  Higher headquarters wants it well tested by the disposables before we begin adding it in to our Alpha or Beta genetic lines."

"Excellent.  Have them assigned to CRURON 104 - Captain Marwin of the ZEUS has been complaining about the outdated troops assigned to them," Vogrin nodded to a highly-decorated officer close to the head of the table, "and the heavies are always in the thick of the fight - we'll get good testing results."  The lieutenant nodded, and sat down.  "Anything else?"

When there was no response, Vogrin stood up and looked over the room. "Very well, fellow officers.  We get underway at 1500 - ENCHANTER and DOMINION should be done at the tender by then.  Operation 'Majestic Diver' begins in 1 week."

As he sat down, the boardroom dissolved around him, leaving the reality of his stateroom aboard his flagship as the Virtual Reality construct shut down.  He gave a satisfied sigh as he leaned back on a high-backed leather chair, his neural lace showing green status reports from his various staff members aboard the battleship.  Taking a sip of a fluted glass of Terran brandy, he smiled as he thought of where he would be next week.  Time for a bit of personal business, mixed with professional pleasure.

Fluff Friday: Fleet Marshals Doubt

SeerK here with a short story.  Please be forgiving I am an amateur.  Hope you enjoy, "The Fleet Marshals Doubt"

The air tasted stale in the chapel. The smell of incense and unwashed bodies filled Alex's nostrils. It had been a scant hour since the engagement with the Sorylians. The Bishop had insisted on having a service and giving thanks for the victory. Alex fidgeted with the collar of his uniform and let out a slow sigh. Victory. It didn't feel like a Victory. The second engagement in three weeks of deployment and Alex lost two heavy cruisers and almost all of the Frigates in the battle group. His second engagement as a Fleet Marshal and it felt like an abysmal failure. The Sorylians had laid a trap and Alex had advanced to quickly. Two Cerberus and eight Bulwarks and fallen in the ensuing close range engagement. The engagement against the Terrans a week before had gone well. Minimal losses and he had blooded the nose of the Infamous “Rad Hounds”.

The Sorylians had boarded a third Cerberus and folded away with it before Alex' flagship, The RNV Leonidas, could destroy it. Despite having destroyed the entire Sorylian flotilla he had lost most of his battle group in the process. It was a disaster. Fleet command was sending reinforcements, but Fleet Marshal Alpha Gronier was also coming. That meant a command review. His appointment to the Rense Navy was a great milestone only surpassed by his Promotion to Fleet Marshal Gamma.

Alex sat in contemplation as the command staff and bridge crew filed out of the small chapel. They looked tired. Alex could feel the doubt they had in his abilities as they saluted halfheartedly walking past him. He needed to rally them. Morale would be low given the losses. It would be an uphill battle to regain the trust of the crew. Make that crews. Alex was still adjusting to being in command of a fleet rather than a single vessel. Another long sigh escaped his lips. He sat weary, his head in his hands as the Bishop approached.

“I know how you must be feeling Fleet Marshal” Bishop Kelly sat on the bench beside Alex. He was a man of advanced years. His gray hair was close cropped and his clean shaven face was craggy and dusky in color. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his white service uniform and produced a flask from its inside pocket. He took a long draw on the flask and offered it to Alex. The Fleet Marshal looked up and held up his hand refusing the drink.

“Suit yourself sir” The bishop took another swig before putting the flask back in its pocket. “I have been in space for longer than you have been alive to be frank Sir”, “and I have seen my fair share of battles”. “You cannot blame yourself..... “

“Can't I?” “I ordered the Fleet forward to quickly and we paid for it in lives and ships”. Alex stood and turned to face the wall of the chapel and let out a long sigh. “The crew doubts me and I doubt myself, how can I lead now?”

Bishop Kelly leaned back and looked up at the dull drab gray ceiling of the ships chapel. “Well sir you suck it up and carry on” Fleet Marshal Gamma Alexander Kraft turned to face the Bishop. “Excuse me?” “ You heard me.......Sir.”

Alex was about to say something when the Bishop Continued. “Did you know I was at the battle of Cygnus 4?” Alex paused as he let the statement sink in. His anger at the Bishops familiarity suddenly ebbed away. “Really? What Ship?”

“The Ignatius Rex.........”There was a long pause. “Fleet Marshal Alpha Renses Flagship!?!?”

“Yes sir I was there when the Terrans destroyed it.” “Barely made it out”

“My God, I didn’t know Bishop Kelly.”

“The battle didn't go well, we were ambushed by 3 dreadnoughts with a host of battleships and cruisers” “The fleet was lead by none other that Admiral Vladimir Gravanivitch of the  Rad Hounds”

Bishop Kelly began to drift off as he spoke. His thoughts elsewhere as he described the desperate battle. “The Admiral Stayed true and strong the whole time, even with the ship burning around him” “His first officer had to knock him out to get him off the ship, bastard was lucky I didn’t bring him up on charges”

Alex looked confused for a second before speaking “ That was a terrible day Bishop, We lost a lot of good men and woman as well as ships. We also lost a great man. Fleet Marshal Rense was a great man.”” What is your point though?”

“Well Sir, my point is this. No matter the odds or the situation you have to give the appearance of being strong.”” Even if you are about to douse your pants in fear you have to hold strong and inspire”

“Easier said than done Bishop”

Alex turned and started to walk out of the chapel. The bishop stood and paused in the aisle as the Fleet Marshal left.” The real trick sir, is to not blame yourself”

“ I thank you for your council bishop, I will try”

Bishop Kelly turned and took out his flask once again. He chuckled to himself. “ I don't blame my self for failing, I blame the Terrans. They got the drop on me , those crafty bastards.

Bishop Kelly Ignatius Rense thought to himself a moment. This kid should do fine if he can get over himself.

More next Friday

Crush The Alliance and as always..........

REMEMBER DRAMOS!!!!!!!